


and you're a tease

by sunnyjeno



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 31 Days of Kun, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Doyo should get an award, Kun is the Prince, Kun is the superior monarch, Kuntober, M/M, Nothing but respect for my Prince, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:32:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyjeno/pseuds/sunnyjeno
Summary: Kun is stressed about the coronation. Dongyoung is having none of it.-----------------------------------------------------------Prompt from: @/moonieqian on twitter.Special thanks to Nar and Myr, who helped me finish on time.





	and you're a tease

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdct](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nerdct).



“Prince Kun?” A knock on the door breaks Kun concentration, and he scrambles to close his book and find his way between the piles of reading material on his studio. If it were any other week, he would lament the disaster that had taken over his otherwise speckless working area, but the hectic schedule he had been following had kept him from doing so.

 

“One minute please, I apologize.” He gives himself one last look in the decorative mirror of the wall, fixes his hair in place, and opens the door, trying his best to keep his unkempt area hidden. “Oh. It’s just you.” Kun visibly relaxes when he notices it’s Dongyoung.

 

“ _ Just me _ ? You wound me, prince.” Kun rolls his eyes, letting Dongyoung follow after him and close the door. “Well, after looking at the state of this room I am a  _ little  _ less wounded. How’s studying?”

 

“Worse than the kingdom’s relationship with Ewriburg.”

 

“Well, damn.”

 

“That’s not the language a Marquess’ son should be using.” Now it’s Dongyoung’s turn to roll his eyes, as he bows deeply.

 

“My most sincere apologies, your Majesty, I was foolish.” He answers with a deep bow.

 

“I’m not king yet, Lord Dongyoung. And if these books keep being as difficult as they currently are, I don’t think I’ll be any time soon. Whoever thought telling me my coronation is next week should most definitely fight me.” Kun lets his head drop on top of the book he’s currently reading, groaning at the pages about political courtesy.

 

“While I agree no one should have to prepare for a coronation this soon, you don’t need to relearn any of this. I went to private classes with you, Kun. You had, as annoying as it was, perfect marks on every topic, and you could literally achieve world peace in your sleep.” Dongyoung lifts up the book Kun is reading,making the latter’s head slam against the table. “ _ Il Cortegiano _ ? Seriously? You’ve read this three times now, you can practically recite it in your sleep. I’ve  _ heard you  _ recite it in your sleep.”

 

Kun exhales, rubbing the red spot on his forehead.

 

“But what if I can’t? What if a foreign prince comes to the castle and instead of greeting him properly I declare war on his kingdom by doing some strange, non-verbal act like waving my right hand to the left on an angle of forty degrees during the late hours of the afternoon, when the sun hits the fourth window on the east side of the castle?”

 

Dongyoung stares at him for the entirety of twelve seconds, slowly blinking as he takes in what Kun just said. And he considers it, he really does. For the entirety of twelve seconds, Dongyoung considers throwing away his title, friendships and life for the chance to end Kun’s life. He truly, seriously considers it. No one is near this area of the castle since Kun last asked that he be left alone. No one would even suspect him. He would make it look like an accident, like the prince, having succumbed to exhaustion, fell and hit his head with a particularly hard book, in such a way that he passed instantly. But he doesn’t, because otherwise prince Chenle would be the next in line to become king, and he doesn’t want to deal with the karma of allowing the seventeen-year-old to even step near the throne. And maybe he likes having Kun as a friend. So on second thirteen, he opens his mouth and gives his best friend the best response he can come up with.

 

“If it weren’t for the laws of this country, I would have bashed your head with a book.”

 

“Too much?”

 

“I contemplated it for twelve seconds.”

 

“That’s a new record.”

 

“And you’re setting a new record with the amount of nonsense you’re spewing.”

 

“My worries are valid, you’re just being a bad friend.” Kun looks immediately ready to take it back when he meets Dongyoung’s eye, but he can’t do it because Dongyoung is already speaking.

 

“I’m not a bad friend and you know that. I’m a reasonable friend, sometimes an okay friend when I make the effort.” Kun breaks into a small smile, his friend’s wits never failing to amuse him, “Now, as the reasonable friend, let me tell you that there isn’t a person in this entire kingdom who could do your job as well as you will do. You’ve been looking over royal issues since you were nineteen, Kun. The people adore you, you’ve supported and seen-through so many projects even against your dad’s opinion, you’ve sacrificed your sleep and energy for the good of others, and it’s not because you want them to favor you, but sincerely from your heart.”

 

Kun’s head drops as he listens to Dongyoung. He isn’t used to this amount of praise, but he knows, deep down, that the marquess’ son is in the right.

 

“Court advisor Youngho adores you, Kun. He praises you constantly on your diplomatic skill, and no one has forgotten when you kept the kingdom out of the dispute between the western and northern tribes, and you managed to settle the dispute while you were at it. Time after time you’ve managed to prove your worthiness of the crown,” Dongyoung pauses to take a breath, “and frankly, I wouldn’t take anyone else as my king.”

 

The last couple words elicit the smallest of gasps from Kun. He’s used to plenty of things from his best friend: Nagging, sassing, joking, sarcasm, kindness, anger—not that he’s proud of that—he’s heard it all, but this is completely foreign to him. He’s never heard Dongyoung speak so honestly, much less to praise him. It sends shivers down his spine.

 

“I’m sorry-” Kun chokes out, but Dongyoung stops him.

 

“Oh come  _ on!  _ I didn’t give you that whole talk just for you to  _ apologize _ and-”

 

“No. Let me speak.” Dongyoung is immediately silent, surprised at the authoritative voice. “You’re right. Being in here, being all cooped up for nothing, that is not me. I’m doing things out of fear, while knowing that I am fully capable.” Kun shakes his head, “that is no behavior for a king. I failed to communicate my worries and that cannot be overlooked. Had this been any other situation, things could have gone wrongly.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving up your title, oh lord.”

 

Kun’s laugh is sonorous inside the quiet studio as he struggles to get his answer out. “Have you considered dropping your title to become a buffoon? That was, by far, your best joke. Whatever makes you think that I would do that? No, no.”

 

“Then what? You’re gonna throw a coup and dethrone your father a week before planned?”

 

“I’m gonna make you my royal advisor.”

 

“No! Anything but that!—wait what.”

 

Kun shrugs, “It’s only natural. I can’t entirely trust myself to stay out of my head, and so far, you’re the only person to bother stopping me. It’d be rather foolish of me to not assign you as so.”

 

“You—I’m honored but. You’re unnerving.”

 

“I thought I was the only one you would take as your king.”

 

“Don’t make me break the record again.”

 

Outside the door, Prince Chenle extends his hand to court advisor Youngho, who begrudgingly hands him a key to the Royal Candy Stash.

 

\--

Come coronation day, Kun is once again a bundle of nerves. He struggles to keep his hair immaculate, his habit of messing with it becoming worse when he’s under stress, and his royal clothing, usually comfortable and well-put together is stuffy and a mess. The only thing keeping Kun sane is that, ever since the impromptu appointment, Dongyoung has made it his top priority to ensure that  _ Crown Prince Kun _ is the image of freshness and royal elegance. Even if that means having to carry a hairbrush and a spray bottle full of water wherever he goes.

 

If the previous week was hectic, the current week is just a little short of the apocalypse. The prince is requested everywhere, it seems. His Royal Highness, a title that Kun is about to part ways with, has been asked to look at a roundel with his face on it, a lavish traditional coach (that he doesn’t really think is necessary, but Dongyoung won’t let him have any other), the official coronation finery and regalia, and the mock of his regent crown (as it is considered bad luck for a ruler to wear their crown before the coronation ceremony). He is thankful that the banners, wall decorations, Royal Guard, Royal Cavalry, trumpeters, and the decorations around the capital do not require him to be present and supervise them, because after five hours of trying on different outfits for the ceremony, he is ready to fall asleep the very next second.

 

That’s why, upon finding the smallest sliver of down time in the day, he whisks away an equally tired Dongyoung to the north tower’s small room, and collapses on the dusty, unused couch in a very un-princely way.

 

“They were right. Brides don’t get to enjoy the wedding plans. This is a well-dressed hell, if I have to graciously greet a single aristocrat again I will renounce my title and move to Scotland.”

 

“You don’t speak nearly enough Scottish to get away with that. And you’re not a bride.”

 

“Does it look like I give an aristocrap?”

 

“How long were you waiting to use that one?” Kun gives Dongyoung the greasiest smile as he turns his head to look at him, not moving from his lazy position in the couch.

 

“Ever since I had to greet The Lady of Utrubet and she went off about her Komodo dragon pet.”

 

“Aren’t those illegal?” Kun nods.

 

“And have enough bacteria in their mouths to kill within half an hour.”

 

Dongyoung gasps loudly and it makes Kun chuckle darkly. “Shut up!” Dongyoung whisper screams, “No wonder they keep talking about hiring a new keeper for their very special pet every two weeks.”

 

“Yup. I’m having her kicked out of court and prosecuted for two charges of wrongful death and one of illegal ownership of animals.” Kun is no longer looking at him, and yet Dongyoung cracks the biggest smile at the seriousness of his voice.

 

“I wouldn’t expect less from you, and I’m sure Sicheng is going to have a field day making that Lady miserable.”

 

Kun is silent for a few minutes, and Dongyoung decides to let him be, instead looking out the narrow window to watch the streets decorated with banners of amethyst and tuscan sun (he insists they’re just purple and yellow, but kun seems to have put plenty of thought into it, so he adopted the silly names) as they wave softly along the wind. The streets are bursting with life, thousands of people having arrived to the capital to see their prince finally become king. There’s an air about the city and it reaches the castle; it carries hopes for the new beginning, excitement, relief, and pride, and it’s infectious, lighting up the faces of the people Dongyoung can see. So he too, feels proud of his best friend, who has gained the kingdom’s respect before he was given a crown, who holds a heart of pure gold, the confidence of a tiger, and the tenacity of one thousand years. He’s seen him grow into a man who could, even without a title, carry the entire world on his shoulders and still take the time to pick flowers for the children, without letting his smile fall. And he dearly loves it. He does, in whatever sense of the word, he doesn’t know. But he knows that he wants to stay by his side and work with him for as long as he’s allowed.

 

“Dongyoung?” Kun’s voice breaks his train of thought, and he turns to face him, an embarrassed pink painting his cheeks.

 

“Were you saying something?”

 

“Thank you.” The sincerity sends shivers down Dongyoung’s back. “You didn’t have to take the position I basically shoved at you, you’ve been acting as much more than an advisor, without mentioning the countless times you’ve vouched for me in front of the other royals. You could have given up on me, heck, I would have given up on me had I met my crazy, young self. But you didn’t. Not when I pushed for the animal sanctuaries replacing the zoos and circuses, not when I fought my dad and his chamber of backwards idiots about the birth right of all women to serve in high positions, or when I suggested that our army size could be decreased in favor of giving better educations to our people. You never abandoned me, and here you are yet again… I can’t help but give you my most sincere gratitude. Everything I’ve changed I’ve changed by your side, and I can assure you that if I hadn’t just blurted out my proposition, you would still be my number one choice for royal advisor.”

 

Dongyoung feels his eyes water, and he mentally curses his fate for giving him such a sentimental king.

 

“Before you say anything, I want to give you something.” Kun stands from his place on the couch and feels around on the simple uniform that he’s been wearing to avoid staining his finery before the coronation starts. When he pulls out a small, dark, velvet box, Dongyoung gasps.

 

“K-Kun you can’t do that, you can’t give me that, you know the meaning, I-”

 

“I know the meaning. That’s why I’m giving it to you.” Kun opens the box in front of Dongyoung, but he doesn’t kneel. “The Ring of Triviel, passed down generations to the lifelong partner of the ruler, to symbolize their eternal union.”

 

“This, this is supposed to be used when you marry, Kun I can’t take it.” Dongyoung would cringe at his own stuttering, but the shock is far too strong to worry about that.

 

“Then I won’t use it. I won’t let anyone but you have it.” The look in his eyes speaks of truth and adoration, and Dongyoung feels dizzy looking at them. “You’ve been my best friend, my supporter, my counselor, my shoulder to cry, my advisor and partner from the very moment we met. I can’t promise you marriage, first of all because you said I was no bride,” Dongyoung chuckles at that, “but if there is one person in this kingdom who I think is worthy of this emblem, of this symbol of power in this kingdom, it is you.”

 

“Are you sure about this?”

 

“Frankly, I wouldn’t take anyone else as my eternal partner.” Kun slips the ring into Dongyoung’s hand, and the latter realizes that it has been changed to fit his finger.

 

“You planned this.” The royal advisor breathes out, looking at the jewelry to avoid letting Kun see his reddened eyes.

 

“I planned on giving it to you, yes. To do it now, not really. Things just worked out this way.” Dongyoung can hear the smile on the crown prince’s speech, and he shakes his head with laughter.

 

“You’re truly, immensely, unnerving.” He answers, embracing Kun in a tight hug.

 

“So I’ve been told.” Kun replies, returning the hug.

 

Outside the door, Prince Chenle wipes off his tears and gives court advisor Youngho the key back.

 

\--

 

It’s the first time in the past two days that Dongyoung hasn’t seen Kun for more than two hours, excluding their mandatory six hours of sleep. The coronation is set to begin in less than twenty minutes, and his hands are clammy under the white gloves. His duty as the future king’s right hand is to hand him the scepter and orb, but he can barely breathe, and he’s unsure if his nervousness is for himself or for Kun. He turns to Youngho, who looks ecstatic about the coronation, a slight bounce kept under control only because of the public.

 

“I’m going to drop the orb.”

 

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ drop the orb.”

 

“I’m going to drop it and the kingdom relic will get an ugly scratch, Kun, I mean, His Royal Highness, will see it and hate me forever and I will be banished or incarcerated for my act of treason, on coronation day no less, my ancestors will be shamed and I will have somehow managed to free a mysterious curse upon the kingdom, kept inside by the orb’s perfect structure.”

 

“You sound like His Royal Highness when he rants.”

“I do not!”

 

“Do too.” 

 

Someone clears their throat besides both of them, and they turn to the left to see Sicheng giving them the ‘if you don’t shut up I will find a way to have you thrown in the dungeon’ look.

 

“My Lords. The ceremony is beginning.”

 

All three turn to face the front of the Throne Room, where the coronation crown sits in a glass box, right in front of the throne. Despite having no official religion, the ceremony setting reminds them of those old traditions from other monarchies, and it makes Dongyoung’s nerves increase, until, from all his nervous fumbling, he finds the ring through the fabric again, and it calms down his nerves. He had decided against wearing it exposed during the ceremony, but Kun had made him promise to wear it freely during the celebratory waltz that evening. Perhaps that was also contributing to his nervousness. And then the music began, and he had no time left to think about it.

 

The organ played, and the chorus sang. Dongyoung’s heartbeat picked up, exalted by the sudden formality of the event.  _ Oh deity, I’m seriously going to drop the orb. What were my lines? With this orb I give you… _

 

His crisis is cut short when, from the right side of the throne room, a glimpse of an amethyst cape shows itself. Dongyoung’s breathing becomes erratic, and then fully stops when he sees Kun step forward, his ceremonial finery on full display. Intricate gold details adorn his chest, and the plum color blooming from his chest gives him an air of effortless grace, like it has grown from him and does not come from any of the regalia he’s wearing. The cape dances above the ground and then it graces it towards the back, and Dongyoung thinks that it resembles the wings of an angelic being as he steps on Earth. All religions pale in comparison, as Kun is, in himself, divinity and king at once.

 

Dongyoung is once again forced to stop his wandering mind when Youngho gives him the signal. He breathes in deeply as he carries the ceremonial orb and the scepter, and  _ oh for all that is holy, please don’t make me drop this damned orb because I will drop off the face of the Earth with it.  _ He approaches Kun, who gives him a courteous smile, nothing like the ones he has witnessed privately. 

 

“With this orb I give you the worth of our Kingdom of Triviel. May you always remain like the sphere, impartial and just towards every direction, may you always be plentiful and complete, and may you bring the same graces to your people.” He returns to his previous position, grabbing the scepter from Youngho’s gloved hands. “With this scepter I give you the imperial insignia, for you may rule as the living image of this Kingdom and all who live upon its plentiful grounds, and you may do so with the just straightness of its shape.”

 

Dongyoung finishes handing off the ceremonial items, and then returns to his place, just in time to see the current King of Triviel stepping towards the coronation crown, two officials removing the glass from above it. The King holds the crown on both of his hands, an amethyst encrusted where his old ruby used to be, and he speaks towards Kun.

 

“May you wear the crown jewels on your head, with the brilliance of the stones in it encrusted, for you now become the head of the Kingdom of Triviel, and I, who once wore your title, bestow upon you the onus of its weight. May your rule be lasting, and bring upon the Kingdom victory, triumph and honor.” He places the crown on Kun’s head, and the now crowned king takes a seat on the throne. 

 

The old king then turns towards everyone, exclaiming. “All hail King Kun of Trievel!” and the crown repeats, “All hail, all hail.”

 

And Dongyoung finally breathes correctly at the sight of Kun’s smile on the throne.

 

\--

 

Dongyoung makes his way into the Grand Hall, following the music that echoes throughout the castle.

 

“If I have to hear Chopin’s Minute waltz one more time, I will find myself a lover and elope.” It’s Kun voice that stops him from walking in, and he turns to look at the new king with a vibrant and inherently teasing smile.

 

“Your Majesty,” he bows, but doesn’t break eye contact with him, “Fancy seeing you here. Was the horde of ladies waiting to be asked for a dance too overwhelming, or were you just bored?”

 

“Neither,” Kun chuckles, “I came here to see if my first royal mandate was followed, and it seems like that’s the case.” He stares at Dongyoung’s right hand, where the garnet stone glimmers with the reflection of the chandeliers.

 

“What kind of Lord would I be if I didn’t follow my King’s mandates?”

 

“Perhaps the kind that repeatedly calls his King ‘unnerving’, refuses gifts given to him sincerely, and then pulls his best formal act on the coronation?”

 

“You’re—”

 

“Unnerving. I’m aware.” Kun grins as he pulls Dongyoung into a hug, ignoring momentarily the looks The Lady of Utrubet is throwing their way. “You did great for a marquess’ son.”

 

“You get the crown and suddenly you’re all smug. Fame truly changes people.” Dongyoung shakes his head, but takes the opportunity to look at Kun more closely, and he is astonished by how well the gold compliments his skin. It looks as if his complexion itself is aureate, and like the stones that circle his head, Kun seems to carry a lightness that is part dream and part virtuosity, and Dongyoung can’t help but feel astonished by him.

 

“You know, they’re painting the royal portrait in two days. Just so you know. In case you were wondering. If it spikes your interest.” And then Kun speaks, and Dongyoung is back to rolling his eyes.

 

“Shut ye royal mouth.”

 

Kun laughs, louder this time, like when they were in his studio a week before. “Come on, royal advisor, won’t you give your King a dance?”

 

“K-” He turns to see other people staring, and stops before he can say anything wrong, “Your Majesty, I don’t think that’s proper,” and it’s a half truth, because Dongyoung knows that he’s not the best dancer and Kun will surely pull him into some kind of wild ten-steps-per-turn routine, but he can’t do much when his best friend is pulling him and weaving his way through the crowds of aristocrats like it’s a plaza on mid-july. 

 

Dongyoung can already feel his feet giving out below him at the mere thought of whatever confusing set of steps Kun will attempt to teach him, but he’s pleasantly surprised when, instead of a more animated dance, Delibes’ Waltz from Coppélia’s Act I, 2, is played by the court musicians.

 

“A waltz? I didn’t think you had it in you, Your Majesty.” They twirl around other dancers, receiving a smile from Youngho, who is dancing with another member of the court, Yoonoh.

 

“Is that so? I remember clearly, the image of us two dancing, infants back then, and you, stepping dearly on my foot. Ah, what memories.” The music picks up, and Kun continues to guide Dongyoung, paying little attention to his scoff.

 

“You only remember that? Nothing about the time you spun me so hard I flew off?” 

 

Kun sighs dreamily. “I knew since then, I was the holder of an outstanding power.”

 

“Clearly said power does not translate into your dancing.”

 

“Then why is it that you look so flustered?” Kun is giving him that smile that screams perfection, and Dongyoung is nothing short of offended.

 

“Skin coloration is common during physical activity. Ego growth, however… doesn’t ring a bell to me.”

 

“You’re no fun,” Kun spins him one last time.

 

“And you’re a tease.” Dongyoung faces him and breaks their hold with a knowing smile.

 

They bow to each other, and, as if the dance had been just a fantasy, part ways at once.

 

On the corner of the dance floor, court advisor Youngho hands the Royal Candy Stash keys to Prince Chenle, at last.

 


End file.
